Our fear was gone, but it was succeeded by a great astonishment. Who had ever before seen the marvel of a white urus? I had, it is true, seen a white crow, and once a snow-white beaver, and knew that such things happened, but such freak of what makes living things was a wonder on such a scale. However, the mystery was solved and the fear which was undefined departed from the clan, though it was long before the more timid lingered much about the pleasant lake. Greatly did I desire the skin of the white urus, but he had drifted away with his companions and I never saw him again. The needless scare had taught the people no lesson. They had still the dread of the mysterious. So passed the inactive and indifferent days, but not for long with me. There came the strangest, as it was the most important, adventures of my life. Near the point of our northward extending Jutland had grown up a fierce and vigorous clan, greater hunters and fighters than we, who had decided to leave the place they inhabited, because of the exhaustion of their oyster beds. Such movement by a clan was no uncommon thing, because, though the hunting and fishing might be usually good, there were times when they failed, and, besides, as was considered by my own people, the oysters and mussels and other shell-fish were easier to gather and had, furthermore, become the food to which the people were most accustomed and which, some thought, best nourished them. Far to the south and past our own and other clans must this one go to where it was said there were more beds of great richness. There were sometimes runners between the clans, and we knew of the migrating band which was already on its way. It chanced that I, at this time, was about to set out on a solitary hunt to the northward to reach the shores of a bay where were many of a small animal, a sort of sable, having a wonderful fur of which I wished to secure enough to make a cloak, not because I wished to wear such a cloak myself, but because I might trade it for many things.